Sacrifice
by starlight2005
Summary: Revision of 'Angel of Thursday'. Had things been different, I would have fallen. And I would have loved it for you were there. The truest affection is found in the sacrifices one makes and his willingness to let go. slight Castiel/Dean; implied Sam/Dean


Title: Sacrifice

Author: starlight2005

Spoilers: vague 4x1 to 4x10

Warning: mild slash, blasphemy (?), character deaths

Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish!

Summary: _Had things been different, I would have fallen. And I would have loved it for you were there. _The truest affection is found in the sacrifices one makes and his willingness to let go. (slight Castiel/Dean)

A/N: I edited the original story. The plot's the same. I added some stuff, took out some, as well. Feedback is most welcome.

* * *

**Castiel**

_I thought I had forever to stand in the sidelines. Be the guardian who watches and protects._

Castiel had never turned deaf ears to a mortal's prayer. He'd always been too 'soft-hearted', Uriel would say, to deny them their wishes. Once upon a time, upon putting a pink-cheeked, tearful 2-year old Dean back to sleep, Mary Winchester had prayed for an angel to watch over her little one.

"_Please look after Dean..."_

His Father had given His consent; not really needing to decide anything for Castiel had (not quite literally) jumped up and volunteered to take the job.

But not deny anything? That wasn't necessarily true. There was indeed a time that he ignored someone. Not that he saw it fit to inform the other, (admittedly) less sympathetic angel.

"...God—uhh, it's okay to call you that, right?—or well...whatever they call you, can you _please _take Castiel back? Seriously, man, I don't need an angel watching me sleep every night! I don' mean to whine, really, but please? And can you tell him to stop popping every time? It's freaking me out. Thank you in advance. Oh, and I really don't need his help. Right. Uhh... okay. Amen."

The angel didn't bother getting angry. He doubted he could even muster the emotion warranted by Dean's actions, but he did a rather good job at pretending as he slammed Dean to the wall and made sure he knew just how important he is to the mission.

Dean never prays again.

Somehow, Castiel feels it was his fault.

XXX

**Dean**

_There's a hole inside me that threatens to rip my sanity to shreds...like sinful, tainted flesh to rabid hellhounds. And I'm too terrified of the demon Sam might become and of the demon I _had _become in hell, to call out your name. Redemption doesn't seem such a lovely word anymore—especially when there's always a way to be thrown back. _

Much had happened since Castiel _the fucking angel _threatened to chuck him back in. Of course, Sam had wondered why he's been drinking way too much liquor lately, been waking up gasping for breath as if he'd just joined a marathon, and staring at no particular space in the room. After the (quite expected) remark of "'m fine... _and it was really a good dream, damn it!" _Sam had let him go, shaken his head and gone back to sleep.

Dean didn't need to exert too much effort to lie nowadays. Both of them knew about his lies anyway; and both of them knew about Sam's lies.

They just never bothered to call on the other—Dean, especially—because really, could he last one week with the knowledge that Sam is inch by inch leaning toward the dark side?

His chest constricted **pain**_**fuck**_**fully **at the thought.

He thought not. Coward.

XXX

**Castiel**

I would have done anything to spare you of that pain. I would have fought all of Hell's forces just to keep you safe—for you are worthy of saving, no matter what you say. But those were my Father's orders and I had to believe that you will be alright in the end. _I had to. _

It was a misconception that angels and violence are like same magnetic poles. They do not repel each other completely. While they do avoid it as much as possible, they are most certainly not going to back down if Hell even _breathes_ a plan to take over Heaven.

Castiel is a soldier in an eternal war. He had seen many of his brothers fall from a demon's curved, black-tainted knife and from temptation as the concept of emotions appealed to them. He'd seen their eyes cloud with pain and surprise as they meet their end; had even see the doubt and the curiosity just as they decided to rebel and _feel_. But apparently, two millennia of fighting demons and other spurns of Hell was not enough.

"You are too _loose _with these humans," Uriel says as they watch Sam and Dean argue about the Boy King using his powers. "Especially with Dean Winchester. He breaks easily, if you know what you're looking for. He can be _replaced._"

"He cannot," Castiel opposes and believes in his answer. Dean will not break, he promises and watches on.

All he could do as Dean ran from a small dog, as Dean's heart pounded harder and faster against his ribcage when they were in a run-down factory, as Dean felt his blood veins nearly pop upon seeing Lilith and listening to her 'ba bum, ba bum, ba bum...", was watch helplessly. To believe.

This was Dean's test.

No matter the outcome, though, Castiel knows he believes.

XXX

**Dean**

_You tell me to believe, to have faith...but you're missing one tiny fact about me. Faith—that's not my sort of thing, you know? Faith is...well, it's for people like Sammy, who fucking believed in angels to protect him and his family, who prayed almost every day for Dad to come home safe, for us to be complete and happy and just _normal. _Faith is for people who have that yellow-eyed son of a bitch's' blood in 'em but desperately want to be good. And people like him—people like Sammy, they need it more. Need you more._

Dean never thought of angels when he was growing up. Oh, sure, there were those cute, little ones Mom would tell him about during Christmas. They had a tall, beautiful Christmas tree back when he was three and Mom was pregnant with Sammy. Dad had lifted him up and told him to put the angel on top, instead of the star, because angels protect little children. Because angels protected families and mommies and daddies. They were supposed to!

The next year, Mom died, the house burned down and Sammy got contaminated with some demon's blood. Dean wanted to think that once upon a time he believed in angels with their white, fluffy wings and gloriously bright halos. But he never did.

Not really.

Mom said an angel was watching over him. That someone was protecting him. But he didn't need a protector; he still doesn't. He needs Sammy, and he needs Sammy to be happy. So yeah, pretty much all of his opportunities to "have faith" and trust and _believe _flew out of the window.

If God existed, why did He let Sammy and Dad fight? Why did he let Sammy go away when Dean needed him so much? Why, God? _Do you even exist? _

Really, Dean can't risk believing on something that doesn't probably exist. He has this image of a god who loves His children so much—Pastor Jim said so. And a father who loves his children "so much" wouldn't let them get hurt, wouldn't let them play with fire and burn themselves, wouldn't let them kill other children because they're envious and proud and think they're better than everyone else. Would he?

So, if he thinks about it, the whole God issue is pretty simple.

It was either god didn't exist, or He is an irresponsible Father.

Personally, Dean thinks it's better to have an inexistent God.

"I am here, Dean." Castiel whispers when Dean wakes up from another nightmare, feels the security and calm the angel shrouds him in. Dean thinks he should believe, should at least _admit _that there's a god but that's just too much. Too many have died, too many have lost their loved ones, too many have depended on Dean, Sam and John Winchester, Bobby Singer and other hunters to save them from those what want to hurt them.

At the end of the day, what did God really do?

XXX

**Castiel**

_My Father respects free will and understands the needs of His children. He's there, Dean…simply watching and waiting for you to accept Him back into your life. He respects your choice. Would you give Him a chance?_

As days pass by, Castiel finds that he no longer is surprised at the intensity of Dean's desire to push him away. It is disconcerting, understandably, for a person to wake up and have a pair of eyes watching him, the angel thought. And Dean is a very private man. The elder Winchester doesn't like anyone-regardless of…kind—getting a glimpse of his life without his permission.

His nightmare; his problem.

Castiel frowns at the philosophy and feels that he should do something about that. Should convince the obviously distraught man that he isn't alone. But Dean _always _cuts him short. Like what is happening right now.

"Dude, can't you just…I don't know, leave me the hell alone even for a few hours?"

Dean knows and apparent dislikes the idea of an angel _watching _him, Castiel points out. Then again, that's Castiel's job. What is he to do?

"Don't you have other God-assigned tasks to do?" Dean is breathless now as he complained, still feeling the aftershocks of his nightmare. The angel nods, admits that yes, he does have other things to do.

However:

"I choose to stay and watch over you."

Even angels have free will; he wants to say as Dean's unbelieving eyes look at him. And this is the very reason why he and his brothers are most vulnerable to corruption. To falling. But Castiel doesn't say anything because the man sighs and goes back to sleep.

Castiel studies other people when he can, and knows for a fact that other people would pray to God in moments of distress, to be protected from nightmares. Dean isn't like them, though. Unlike the majority, he doesn't want to accept that Heaven does exist, that God does care…that Castiel does want to stay and protect him. Dean has lived a hard life, learned not to trust anyone to stay for long. That's why he refuses to acknowledge the fact that Castiel won't leave like everyone else.

And Castiel knows this. It hurts him, makes him want to reach out and make Dean feel better for all the suffering he had to go through. The pushing away doesn't stop, though. It's even more relentless.

_Oh Dean…_

XXX

**Dean**

_Hell was everything I knew it to be and everything I wanted it _not _to be. It was one… nasty place. The misery, despair and agony could choke anyone. I wasn't safe from it. Cries of 'SammyhelpSammyhelpSammypleaseSammy' echo and drive me insane as they tear me apart, rip my mind to shreds and gouge my eyes, nose and mouth out. But the knowledge that Sam's gonna be fine will always convince me that everything I had gone through was worth it. So fucking worth it. _

Dean lies. A lot.

It can't be help. Kinda goes with the job, you know? He'd been brought up that way—credit card scams and fake identities. Maybe it didn't go as far as having an inability to count the number of times he's been honest (because he _has _been honest; only, no one could actually figure that out) but he's lied enough to save his hide and sanity from prying (*cough*Sammy*cough*) eyes. So yes, just after the Samhain spectacle, Uriel clues his brother in. Tells him that wow, would you look at that, Dean really knows more than he wants every_fucking_one to believe.

Unfortunately, not even Sam's good enough to make Dean tell the truth. Oh, ho, not in a million years…

"Why do you do it, Dean?" The man groans, bleary bloodshot eyes shutting tight as if by doing so, he could will the angel away. He isn't in the mood to talk—"Christ, not _you _again…"

Blasphemy is a sin, his conscience warns. Shut up.

Dean doesn't give a damn. "If you're going to lecture me about abstinence and all that crap, I suggest you forget it. I ain't listening."

"Why do you hide so much?" is Castiel's persistent question. He's been asking that every time. Dean doesn't even have to listen; he can practically hear it inside his head! There's also Castiel's frighteningly open, sincere eyes that tell him everything he needs to know _every time_. Dean's eyes narrow and he hopes it is enough to stop the angel from demanding answers.

The angel neither flinches nor backs off. He places his palm on the handprint, squeezes gently and coaxes the man to be honest. Reminds Dean of the time Castiel is honest enough to admit that he, angel of the Lord that he is, has doubts. So maybe Dean doesn't have the power to deny him even a tiny bit of honesty. After all, Castiel "gripped him tight and raised him from perdition".

He sighs. The answer's pretty simple, really. But Dean has a way to make even the simplest of things complicated. That's how he is.

"Why, Dean?

"Because I have to be strong."

XXX

**Castiel**

_You must stop your brother. The path he treads is dark and dangerous._

Castiel knows that when he protects someone, he makes sure those around the person doesn't get hurt, too. Sometimes, it backfires on him and he's been told—not only by Uriel, mind you—that it was time for this "fondness" to stop.

So for the past 2000 years, he prioritizes the person he is assigned to look after even though the man's loved ones die one by painstakingly one. The angel watches every charge he have had die inside, sees the light flicker one last time in their eyes before dimming. Protecting them from demons and witches, ghouls and zombies does not change the fact that Castiel failed to protect them from themselves.

Their greatest enemies will always be themselves. This time, Castiel wants to make sure he doesn't repeat his mistake. Dean is important. If not to Uriel or to any of his brothers; if not to God—and if they think _he _can be replaced—Castiel is determined to think that to him, Dean is the most important person in the world.

And Castiel vows to look after him…and Sam…and Bobby.

When he catches Samuel with Ruby, the demon, he frowns disappointedly. Dislikes what he sees because he's an angel and he knows where the demon is leading the younger Winchester to. Dean wouldn't like it. He sighs sadly as another demon is exorcised, doesn't stop the negative reaction he feels as the human who was tied to the chair gains consciousness and asks where he is. This is wrong, no matter what Sam says—because Samuel may be helping people but at the end of the day, he is only making things worst.

Castiel is an angel as he is a solider in an on-going war; and he knows for himself that Samuel can be saved. But Dean _has to _do the saving. Only him. Others would kill just to win the war, even angels…maybe, even Castiel. And Castiel refuses to let the one Dean treasures the most be taken away from him.

It beats the purpose of protection. So he warns Dean, makes him force his younger brother to stop.

"That's none of your business" is Dean's way of thanking him.

It doesn't matter.

This is for Dean's sake.

XXX

**Dean**

_No one's taking Sammy away. Not Lilith, not her demons, not God…not even you._

People have trust issues. Kinda goes with the "survival of the fittest" crap. And when you're a hunter, been brought up as one, you go beyond having issues. You don't trust anyone at all. You don't make friends, you don't tell and no matter what, you don't tell the fucking truth. Those are the rules.

Really, though, Dean doesn't like to think he's wary of men, in general. That's just too Uriel-y for him. Some men are cool, like Bobby. Like Dad. Some are amusing, like Ash. And well, some are worth protecting. Fine, one. Sam. But he's still suspicious and it's pure human instinct.

Now, angels and demons… they're different.

They're more powerful, they're annoying…they meddle with private affairs and they basically throw the most powerful punches in the world. (Stupid Uriel.) Dean isn't sure if Castiel could pack a punch but dude, he's an _angel _who just burned a séance's eyes for attempting to look at him. And Dean really, really likes his eyes. His not-broken jaw, too.

Dean hopes Castiel doesn't punch him ever. He also thinks that the angel wouldn't have to retaliate if he doesn't throw a punch of his own at the angel, either. It can't be stopped, though, because he's too angry at the "angel of the Lord" to even bother thinking about the consequences.

"You _knew _all this time and you didn't fucking tell me?!!"

Castiel is calm when he stands up, a bruise forming from where Dean has hit him. His eyes are clear and so very blue, sparkling in understanding and sadness. The sight itself makes Dean feel guilty. Bad enough he lost his temper; he didn't have to hurt the angel just because he's the nearest person—creature, whatever.

"Castiel, I—"

"I was hoping that your brother would realize the gravity of his actions. I apologize, Dean. Will you forgive me?"

Huh, what?

Dean collapses right after, falls on the bed and throws the pillow angrily at the wall. He buries his head in his hands, sighing rather loudly before looking at the taciturn supernatural being in the room. He's breaking, feeling as if the rug has been pulled from underneath him and thinks, he's going back to hell after all. The eldest Winchester—strong, sarcastic, (hah)_brave_—is reduced to a mess, wondering where the _hell _he went wrong. How could he have been so _stupid _to not know that Sammy wouldn't stop using his powers?

And the world's going to end, with almost half of the total number of seals being broken. The last one had just been broken two months ago. Though Dean was able to stop Lilith this time around, he doesn't think it did enough damage to the she-demon's plan. Stupid Lilith.

Oh, and by the way? Castiel's apologizing when he's the one who has an ugly bruise on his face!

He fucking _hates _this. He hates how the world suddenly becomes his problem, his burden.

Dean is a simple guy. He only wants three things in the world: Sam's happiness, Dad's approval and some minor things that could be grouped into one. He doesn't want to save the goddamn world! Besides, shouldn't other people worry about it, too? It's their world, as well!

He should be doing something else; should be worrying about being jobless, being a fugitive. Should be worrying about stuff normal people fret about. (Then again, he's not normal, is he?) But he isn't and there's an angel sitting beside him, waiting for his breakdown to end so that he can make things better again. Dean doesn't deserve this.

Not after what he's done; not after what he's failed to do.

Dean shakes his head. It all boils down to one thing—he has to stop Sammy. His Sammy. His brother. His _little brother_, for crying out loud!

And the funny thing is, he doesn't want to. He's compelled, fine, but damn it, he'd rather go to hell. He'd rather suffer hell all over again than kill Sammy.

He shakes his head again, collapses in Castiel's arms as the angel puts him into a dreamless sleep. But before he does succumb to unconsciousness, he manages to whisper,

"Sam's all I got…"

XXX

**Castiel**

_Your faith in him is inspiring. What then, if he fails you?_

Humans amaze Castiel. Despite the amazement that courses down his veins and jolts him into caring for his Father's precious creations, these fragile, mortal beings scare him as well. For an angel, there are perhaps a limited few that are most important. Their Father, their orders, their _faith_ and loyalty—these comprise their life. He doesn't understand why despite having them and being assured that their Father's love is unconditional, he feels that he envies humans even more.

He thinks about Dean Winchester, who'd give his soul, had given his soul once if it means saving his brother. Dean would have give his life, kill and fight because inside him is the belief that everyone deserves to live. Has right to life. Everyone deserves to be saved… except him, that is. And Castiel isn't a fool. He is aware of what happened in Hell. He regrets, as well. For taking four months to save his charge. But he envies Dean. Envies Sam more because no one, no _one _else but Dean would willingly undergo endless torture for someone else.

"Take caution. You do not want to fall. Besides, it was an order, Castiel," Uriel reminds him impatiently as he watches Dean again, from afar this time. The man shakes wildly in his sleep, grabs the air, clutches his pillow tight and reaches for the knife underneath it. It is in that moment that the angel interferes, aware of the harm that Dean would unconsciously inflict on himself.

Dreams had never been pleasant for the man, especially after he's been brought back from the dead. Somehow, even though it made Castiel happy to see the once crying 2-year old boy alive, he wished he could do something to take the pain away.

"Shh…" the angel shushes. He caresses Dean's cheek tenderly and places his palm on the other's forehead. Dean relaxes almost instantly. But it's getting worse, Castiel notes. He knows what this is about.

Dean loses sleep over a changed Sam, a younger brother who will never be the same again. Who tried to kill him yesterday. (The stab wound still hurts, Castiel points out.) But Dean is stubborn, had been all "I ain't killing him! He's my brother!"

It pains Castiel to see just how far the older Winchester is willing to sacrifice. It pains him to watch as Dean continues to bear the hurt and betrayal. Dean _knows _there's no other solution for his brother. Knows that the Sammy he grew up with died the moment he plunged a cursed dagger into Dean's pliant body. Dean'll never hurt his brother.

Even though Samuel Winchester, who tried and failed at saving _him_, who left for Stanford and abandoned him many years ago, who used to look up to him and say "you're the best but I want to be normal", who would hug him and thank him quietly for being the coolest brother in the world, is no longer there. Castiel thinks that maybe he should empathize with Dean.

But he doesn't know how, and he's left watching in the sidelines as the nightmares blur with reality. Despite it all, Dean's decision is resolute:

"No one hurts him."

XXX

**Dean**

_Sammy's my brother and nothing's gonna change that—not even the color of his eyes. I don't think it matters. So what if he has freakish yellow eyes? I just want him safe, is all. And I'm gonna protect him. Because that's my job and he's my brother. Protect him. From the world; from Lilith and her bitches; and from anyone else who dares hurt him. _

Dean drives and drives for miles. He's fleeing. He's passed to way too many motels in the past few days, been ignoring the empty seat beside him. Sammy used to fall asleep there, completely vulnerable to his pranks. No bitching, no exasperated "_Dean._" It's gotten quieter since Sam—no, not Sammy anymore—and he parted ways. He still plays one tape from Metallica, playing it in loops because he doesn't like searching the back for the box of tapes. Sam would usually say, "You have the crappiest taste in music, man" but that was a long time ago. Only reminds him of wide, dimpled grins and a deep, teasing voice.

Sammy.

They haven't seen each other since SamnotSammy stabbed him and tried to crush his heart via telepathy. That was freaky, Dean admits as he drives past a shabby, scarcely lit motel. Driving further seems to be a good idea right now, even though his eyes don't seem to agree.

When was the last time they talked? Not including that 'conversation' they had in their last meeting.

"_I'm going to kill you, Dean."_

Definitely not included.

Then again, who is he kidding? It's not like Sam's gonna go back to normal just like that and demand to know where the _fuck _are you, Dean? Ridiculous.

Right?

It takes him longer to calm down as he drives even faster. Focus, man.

"You are exhausted, Dean."

"Fuck off, I'm driving." And he is reminded of how Sam wouldn't have to piss him off unless he's in the mood for prank war or feeling particularly sulky. Normally, Sam'd go to sleep because research can drain a person, you know? Tears prickle his eyes and Dean curses loud, doesn't care that beside him is an angel who's been giving him worried stares since he woke up that morning.

"The Boy King is looking for you."

'Boy King' further concretizes the idea that yes, Sam's gone to the dark side and isn't coming back. That it's finally, finally _over _and Dean's failed. Again. Not Sam; not Sammy; not even Samuel. Never going to be. Things are different now, he realizes, but his lips form a thin, grim line. Stubborn, decided. Both of them know what Castiel left unvoiced.

You must do something.

"Ain't killing him. Ain't helping him. Ain't helping you, either."

What Sam is doing is wrong. But he promises to protect Sam anew. No matter what. Because sometimes, you just have to hope, you know? Maybe he'd stumble on a solution somehow. Sam's still his brother and he still has a job to do. Still needs to save Sammy. He can't lose his brother. He _can't_. Not after what they've been through; not after finally working as a partners again.

Castiel sighs and disappears. Dean stops at the side of the road and leans back, closes his eyes and asks, although he knows there won't be an answer.

"Do you still remember me, Sammy?"

XXX

**Castiel**

_When the world ends and mankind burns, look for me…for as your protect Sam from them, I shall be there, watching your back._

The end of the world doesn't come as soon as Dean expects it to be. Castiel admits that he had thought it to happen in a few days. Apparently, Hell has other plans, has gotten bolder now that their Boy King is back. Their _genius _of a king, that is. Dean laughs dryly at the thought. Sammy, who couldn't even last a day without that pitiful, pouting look on his face, who couldn't even get through the day without losing his shoe or sock or wallet or _phone, _is leading Hell's legions. They're going to face each other someday.

That makes Dean shudder and meet Castiel's gaze.

"Shouldn't you be fighting?" Dean demans of his angel, who shakes his head, calm and peaceful as the situation allows. They've been hiding. Especially since the hell hounds are close in trail and behind them, Dean's ex-brother. Dean doesn't ask 'why' anymore. It's enough of an answer anyway. And Castiel is grateful for that.

Castiel looks outside and watches as the view blurs into vague outlines of trees and water and roads. Uriel is waiting, looking for possible clues that lead to the last two seals. He is probably looking for both of them, as well; having received orders from Michael that they be captured. Castiel's never rebelled before but Dean _has_, and they're both looking out for angels _and _demons.

So far, they're ahead by a couple of states. He has Dean. And he can fulfil his obligations. Can look after the man. That is enough.

It's going to be over soon, Castiel knows for himself; and at the back of his mind, he is aware that Dean can easily submit to darkness as Castiel can be tempted to fall. But they have each other, are dependent on the other's decisions and plans. They have to survive for two different reasons.

Dean thinks he has to live to find the solution for Sam. And Castiel? He doesn't question this anymore because he's got someone to live for, too—

Dean.

XXX

**Dean**

_I don't have faith in your God. But you know that I trust you. You're an angel, though, and there's no way that I'm condemning you to this fate. Not gonna happen just because I can't stop Sammy. I won't let you. _

Sometimes Dean thinks Castiel reads his thoughts without permission. Heck, if he had the same ability, he'd probably do the same thing. They've been in the same small room for two weeks, ever since a demon managed to possess Dean (despite the tattoo) into trying to kill himself. At first, they thought their covers have been blown and that Sam's just waiting outside the door but the angel doesn't hesitate to send it out of Dean's body again.

Dean falls asleep afterward and wakes up the next day not remembering anything about it.

He does wake up to a pale, exhausted angel. He's never seen someone as powerful as Castiel drop to the chair as if all the energy's been sapped from him. Dean's brow furrows with worry and he reaches out. He doesn't think about the last time he saw someone special like that.

"_Are you drunk?"_

"_Yeah… so?"_

"You okay, man?" he asks and feels bad because somehow he knows it involves him.

"I feel… drained." The holy tax accountant admits, shrugging off his trench coat. It takes a couple of minutes for Dean to process that Castiel's actually bleeding before he rushes forward in panic, grabs the other and pushes him to the bed. He orders the angel to stay and stop moving as he runs to his bag for the first-aid kit. What the hell happened? Oh shit, oh shit, oh _shit_.

"Cas?"

The nickname flows so naturally from his mouth and he watches as Castiel, whose eyes had closed, opened and revealed hazy, fading blue eyes. Something's wrong with his angel. His? Dean drops to his knees and reaches forward, rests his palm on each of Castiel's knees. "What happened last night? You have to tell me."

Wearily, Castiel lifts a hand, pats Dean's cheek comfortingly and grimaces as the man accidentally touches his right arm. Dean whispers a quiet apology, shivers at how cold the angel is. It's freaking him out! Angels don't die—not the way mortals do—right? He panics again; this isn't supposed to be the way he shows his gratefulness to the one who saved him from hell. He's not supposed to let Castiel get away with not telling, either.

Dean manages to stop the bleeding before resting his hands on each of the other's shoulders. Castiel winces suddenly, a whimper coming out his chapped lips. His eyes open immediately (Dean hates how dull they are), a question dying on his lips.

"Tell me what's wrong!" Dean nearly yells because he doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what's hurting the angel. His worry blends with fear and guilt. He can't lose Castiel! He's just lost Sam!

Castiel takes a deep breath, the process seemingly hurts him, though. When Dean meets his gaze, Castiel's hands fly to his arms, gripping tight, before he is pulled down for a kiss.

Dean stiffens but his eyes close automatically, hands clutching to the shirt Castiel is wearing just as Castiel depends the kiss. When Castiel's tongue slips past his lips and into the hot cavern of his mouth, Dean reluctantly moans. His brain starts to shut down, only mildly wondering how and when the other learned to kiss this well.

When the words 'ANGEL' and 'DAMNATION' rise up, Dean stills. He breaks them apart. Castiel looks at him then away.

"Castiel?"

It is a whisper, unsure and breathless from the kiss.

"I'm falling, Dean."

Castiel hears Dean's sharp intake of breath before he sees Dean mouth the word 'no'. Looks up and flinches at the horror so clearly expressed on the man's face. It's when they both realize that someone is banging on the door that Dean shakes his head.

Dean stands up and regrets, his blood gone cold by what he's done and by what's going to happen. It's all really over. It's bound to happen anyway. Sam isn't a fool. As he rises, though, he feels close to choking as if his heart's caught in his throat.

"Dean, please."

He doesn't want to hurt Castiel. He isn't going to ruin Castiel's life. And it hurts because he has to let go to save Castiel. The same way he has to let go of the Sammy he _knows_ and cares about. That's how things go in his life. Dean isn't selfish enough to hurt those he loves.

"Dean—"

"No, Castiel."

_I won't let you fall for me_. _You don't deserve that. _

XXX

**Castiel**

_The world ends when you close your eyes at last. Your last breath is ragged, barely escaping from your bloodied lips. I tasted your lips last, felt you give yourself to me last. Before he came for you. And the loss makes me crumble. I have failed but you have succeeded. I should never have asked you to kill him. I should never have told you. But you work this way, bound to know that you couldn't kill Samuel unless he tries to kill you and me first. He dies when he stabs you in the heart and you quickly slit his throat. My Father forgives me for my transgression. However, had things been different, I would have fallen. And I would have loved it for you were there. _

"'m sorry…" Dean tries to say.

"Don't be," Castiel replies because there's nothing to apologize for. Dean shakily nods, accepts it finally before resting his palm over Castiel's. The angel is applying pressure on the wound, hoping it could save him. But they know it is hopeless. The stab was aimed to kill, and Sam is one of the best hunters. He knows how to strike a dagger and kill effectively.

"I…" Dean tries again, fails this time. It's getting hard to breathe now and he's simply so tired. "You… I… love...don'…fall…."

"Dean—" Castiel stares as Dean goes limp and the light finally is extinguished from his formerly vibrant green eyes.

He grieves for a while, all sorts of questions popping in his head. There's a hand on Castiel's shoulder and immediately, he looks up.

"He has stopped you from falling, aren't you glad?" Uriel asks out of curiosity.

"_He _is dead."

"But he has protected _you_. That is enough for him."

There is no argument after that. Just acceptance; hope, that Dean is in a better place.

They stand silently, two angels over the bodies of two brothers.

Angels don't feel; they're not supposed to have emotions. But emotions are learned from interactions with humans. And that's why angels fall. That's why Castiel chose to fall. It would be the biggest sacrifice that he would make.

It was for Dean.

Dean made a sacrifice of his own.

"_No, Castiel." _

FIN


End file.
